


memories of tomorrow

by Nyxisis (IsseyRiot)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 01:22:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7554691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsseyRiot/pseuds/Nyxisis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight years into the future, Leonard and Sara are living happily together until one day Leonard disappears. He wakes up eight years in the past, meeting his Legends’ team only a few months after his younger self had died in the Oculus explosion.<br/>Now he has to deal with his knowledge of the future, the tension around the younger version of his girl, finding past Leonard who clearly isn’t dead and finding his way back home to his Sara.<br/>But it’s harder than he thought it would be, to be involved in that mission again, see their younger selves doing the same mistakes, fighting the same demons, while he, much wiser than before, have to keep the memories of a brighter tomorrow for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	memories of tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [michaelsc0fields](https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelsc0fields/gifts), [FreyReh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyReh/gifts), [AgentMaryMargaretSkitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentMaryMargaretSkitz/gifts), [flabbergabst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flabbergabst/gifts), [IceBlueRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceBlueRose/gifts), [dragonydreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonydreams/gifts), [Jael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jael/gifts).



> I want to thank my lovely beta saralxnce/michaelsc0field for giving her special touch to this, soothing my edges and giving me so many semi-colons!
> 
> andandand my girls agentmarymargaretskitz, freyreh, locitarose/icebluerose, dragonydreams and stillthewordgirl/jael for going out of their way yesterday to make this happen, going as far as to declare a strike of their fics.  
> andandand my sweet flabbergabst who has supported me and talked me into getting back to writing so many times and wants to write with me and is there at one click :)  
> you are all very special!
> 
> So, this is me after three years hiatus. Yay.

Something was telling him to run. It was like a pricking sensation, an old instinct – a trick an abused child and a thief had to rely on. No matter how much he distanced himself from his past, “Alexa” was never dormant.

But Leonard Snart didn’t run anymore.  
  
He had a place to be, every night.

  
The safe house he kept with Mick wasn’t the place he had in mind when Sara said yes to him. She had been the one who put her foot down, saying it was perfect after he brought her to see it.

“I never want the old Snart to be gone.” She had said.

Giving in to her the moment she had smiled at him – which was a common occurrence between them – it had taken them around a month to reform the warehouse. With team Flash’s insistent help and his dear sister always on his ass, in two months the loft was ready.

The only thing that remained the same was Mick’s garage, which shared space with the living room and the kitchen.

Walking up the metal stairs, Leonard saw the note left on the bed next to the scarf he had forgotten at home.

_Out checking in on mum – I’ve called dad to confirm we will be there tomorrow. Yay._

Oh yeah, the Lance’s dinner. Quentin had been begging Sara to be there for the last week to no avail – she had flat out refused. When the old man turned to him for help, Leonard raised his hands in a mock apology saying he wouldn’t meddle. Quentin’s glare didn’t disappoint, but watching them argue was too much entertainment for his son-in-law to interrupt.

It all really came down to Quentin’s new wife. Donna was too much for Sara to handle – and he could never blame her for feeling that way. Two hours with the woman around could be torturous, although he could appreciate the comedy that seemed to follow her.

Sometimes he managed to power through because he just loved his girl too much.

What really made Donna so insufferable to Sara was her unrelenting need to bring up Laurel. The woman believed that talking through pain was the best way to overcome it and while her tactic seemed to have succeeded with the head of the Lance family, Sara was another story.

Laurel’s death wasn’t the only hardship Sara had to deal with. On the other side to Quentin, Dinah was a mess. Her mother had fallen into a deep depression, developing social anxiety and even showing suicidal tendencies by claiming she wanted to be with her daughter and even hiding a sharp knife under her pillow.

Luckily Dinah didn’t live alone. Harrison Wells, her boyfriend, didn’t leave the sinking ship, showing great loyalty and love to Dinah. He was a great help to Sara and Leonard.

Everything had been really tough on Sara, for more than a few reasons. So, Leonard did eventually bring her around to the idea of dinner with Quentin and Donna. He feared that otherwise she would alienate herself, that Laurel’s murder would win again by taking the light from the girl he loved, the light she had fought so hard to get back.

Sara needed to do this - to be around her father, their friends and Laurel’s memory. With or without Donna, it didn’t matter.

“It would be good for you.” he had said. She had scoffed at him, rolling her eyes as she continued to wash her hair while he watched – something he loved to do. “And it could be good for some laughs.”

He had to smile at the memory of the skeptical look on her face.

“You don’t laugh when we’re there.” She had pointed out.

“Well, stepmom is a little too slapstick for my taste, but it’s never boring when she isn’t sputtering her self-help shit at us.” He had countered, but he knew he had won.

Smirking at the memory of his girl’s lack of enthusiasm and his own victory over the matter, Leonard went down stairs after taking a shower. The weird sensation prickling his skin was back again, but he shut it off.

The clock told him it was 8:20 pm. Knowing Sara would be home soon, he decided to start making dinner in the kitchen.

He was taking the pasta out of the boiling water when he heard a knock at the door.

Raising an eyebrow, he paused for a minute, hoping for neither Lisa nor Barry. He simply wasn’t in the mood and while he was appreciative of both making Sara smile, he himself has always succeeded in that regard, so he didn’t always need them to come do it for him.

Of all people, Leonard never expected this one upon opening the door.

“Having some down time, Mick?”

His former partner followed him inside, standing in the middle of the kitchen while he looked around the place.

“Something like that, boss.” he shrugged. “Where’s blondie?”

“Not here.” he started chopping some vegetables. “I thought we gave you a key?”

Mick grunted. “After the last two times I found you going at it, it’s safer to knock.”

Leonard chuckled at the memory: one on the floor, another at the kitchen table. “Those time masters did a number on you. Old Mick would have been eager to watch.” He paused. “Not that I’m eager for you to watch.”

The burly man grinned, patting the table for emphasis. “Oh I don’t mind. That gorgeous girl crossed our lives and has you wrapped around her finger. I don’t mind watching you. It’s her killer eyes that have me cautious.”

“Funny. They have me anything but…” he smirked back at him.

“I meant the _other_ kind of killer.”

Leonard sighed while putting the vegetables on to boil and turned to Mick. “Why are you really here?” When all the big man did was roll his eyes, he pressed on. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Fuck you.” Mick grumbled. Leonard just raised an eyebrow.

For the past eight years, Mick had been time travelling alongside Rip, Firestorm and some new recruits with the mission of fixing the events former time masters had manipulated into happening. After his time as Chronos, Mick had been set that that was where he belonged and that he had a mission.

Leonard’s instinct was to call bullshit, but his new awoken sensibility and respect for the man and what he has gone through under those fuckers’ control had him saying nothing at all. After all, the feeling of belonging had started to make sense to him over these past few years. In his case though, it wasn’t belonging somewhere, but to someone.

Mick’s posture wasn’t one of a man on a shore leave though. He looked too tense and reluctant.

“I’m out.” he said without meeting Leonard’s eyes.

He stared at his old friend for a while, waiting for him to add something, maybe clarify what had happened to make him suddenly leave, but he remained silent. Not one to ask for a touchy-feely moment, he turned his attention back to his task.

“Well, you better make use of that key. You’re not going to have me opening the door for you every damn time.”

Mick laughed, finally loosening up a little as he opened the fridge for a beer.

-

The clock stroked 11 pm when Sara finally opened the door. Her expression was pale and tired when she came in, but brightened a little upon seeing their friend sprawled on the couch drinking his seventh – eighth? - bottle.

Mick swept her into a bear hug and told her to grab a beer and join them for some old stories, to which Sara declined with a playful but forced smile. She slipped upstairs quietly.

From his spot on the armchair, Leonard remained observant of her during their exchange.

“You are worried. What’s going on?” Mick broke his reverie.

Leonard met Mick’s questioning stare. Any trace of amusement and intoxication was gone.

That was the thing about Sara and Mick: they wore their hearts on their sleeves. Assassin or pyromaniac thief, it didn’t matter; both were open books for Leonard to read.

Springing off his seat, Leonard turned on his heels to follow Sara without answering Mick’s question. It could wait.

He found her in their bathroom, wearing a cream lace bra and her black skinny jeans and while the sight – no matter what the problem – still turned him on as always, the lost look in her eyes as she took off her rings had him focusing on something else.

Crossing his arms, he stood there where he leaned on the door frame, simply observing her; the way she bit her lower lip, how her thick eyebrows frowned with overthinking, how the shadow the light created made her eyes look almost grey through the mirror’s reflection. She was so lost in her thoughts, it took more than a few instants for her to look up and meet his eyes through the mirror. The small smile she offered didn’t make things better.

“It’s fine, Len.” she murmured while still holding his stare. “She… I think she is getting better… The meds must be doing their thing, I guess. I’ll join you guys in a bit, I just want a shower…” she sighed, but didn’t move towards the shower, sitting on the toilet instead.

As much as Leonard was worried about her mother, Sara was his number one and seeing her so frail, so uncharacteristically defeated with her head down frightened him like little else could. Moving to stand before her, he gathered the long mane of golden waves that fell down her face, tucking it back and combing through it with his long fingers instead.

She sighed. And she gasped. And she trembled. And she finally cried, leaning her forehead on his leg.

“I… I don’t…” she hiccupped. “My d-death broke their marriage… L-La-Laurel’s broke our mo-mother.”

He let her cry, like he always did. Like him, Sara was too tough to be consoled with empty clichés. First, she needed her time. Then, she needed him.

So he gave her time and let her cry. Let her say she wasn’t enough, that Laurel should be the one to be there, that Laurel would have made everything better by now, that she was hardly able to deal with her shit and much less her mother’s, that her father was living a lie - hiding away from his loss. Crying that she was a killer, she should have died, something about Laurel being the best part and then he had had enough.

Kneeling down in front of her, he was met with the most beautiful, if swollen and red, eyes he had ever seen. Her lips were pink, just like her nose was at the tip. When Sara cried, she cried like a kid and the freckles only added more to that image.

“Quit it, Sara.” he told her, holding her eyes with his serious ones. “I’m sure your death wasn’t easy and we know how Laurel dealt with that. You are hanging on, staying strong.” He brushed the tip of his fingers under her eyes, wiping her tears away, before caressing her freckled cheek. “Stop talking of death. We know this family, we know we have had enough of that.”

She closed her eyes tight before leaning her head on his shoulder, but he gently pushed her back and kissed her cold lips. A chaste kiss. And another. “I’m here” And another, harder. “I’m fucking here” And then he felt her arms around him.

-

That night had Leonard thinking, trying to come up with a plan to get Sara out of this mess. That’s what she needed. She needed out. Even if it was only for a few days or a week – he had to get her out of here. Not Starling or a space ship. Somewhere with fresh air and a beach. Even though he dreaded the feeling of wet sand in between his toes and the sizzling sun burning his skin, Sara needed the break.  
He was sure Wells could handle Dinah on his own while they were away, Mick would figure his own shit out, Team Flash and the PD would be fine without him for a few days and Sara’s students at the dojo could use some vacations to heal all those bruises.

He had heard good things about Costa Rica… Or Hawaii… Or wherever she felt like going.

The off feeling was back again. Sighing in annoyance, Leonard stopped himself from throwing the duvet off him so he didn’t wake Sara up, and stood up to leave the room. As he made his way downstairs, he heard the sound of the TV coming from Mick’s room by the garage and was set on joining him for a while but his head started to spin and his vision looked like a kaleidoscope for a second.

Holding himself against the wall, he breathed in trying to get over whatever this was. But the sweat dripping down his nape felt cold and his arms started to feel numb, as if his temperature had hit zero at once before slowly coming up. Walking a few steps forward, he raised his hand to his face only to stare at air. As if he was a hologram, his body seemed outlined and part of his right hand and arm were erased. He was about to call for Mick when his mind gave another spin, so strong that threw him on the ground and knocked him out cold.

 


End file.
